Requiem For Sleep
by Silencebeyondthestars
Summary: Molly is having trouble with falling asleep at nights and Sherlock has the same problem but for the opposite reason so he comes up with an unorthodox way to solve both of their problems at the same time. Molly's new boyfriend Liam definitely wouldn't approve. Set after His Last Vow. Rated M for smut.
1. The Problem

Molly lay on her bed in the darkness of the night. The back of her head was resting on the pillow as she stared at the sealing listening the deep breaths her boyfriend Liam made beside her.

618 so far.

She sighed and turned onto her left side facing the window and away from him. When his 855th breath was released Molly finally allowed herself to rise and walk out of her bedroom not minding her steps since Liam was always a heavy sleeper.

Toby, who was in the middle of giving himself a bath in the living room floor gave her a bored look and continued not caring why his mistress was awake at this ungodly hour.

Molly made her way into the small kitchen nook and closed the sliding door just in case she would accidentally make some noise. Why there was a door leading into a six square meter kitchen was beyond her. The only reason she could think of was that the previous owner, who had been a mother of three, had installed it to have even a small escape from her brood. When Ms. Benson had found herself pregnant for the fourth time she'd sold the place to Molly five years ago and now the solace of the room was used by the pathologist for her nightly escapes from her breathing boyfriend.

She rummaged through her fridge pulling out eggs, milk and butter and then flour from the cupboard next to the oven.

It wasn't Liam's fault that she had trouble of falling as sleep. He didn't even snore but still the deep breaths that came regularly kept Molly awake. She'd had the same problem with Tom and every other boyfriend she ever remembered of having.

The thing was that it took her longer than most others to quiet down the noises her brain made when she laid down and close her eyes every evening. Molly sometimes hated when she went to sleep it was then that her brains started to wander into endless directions. It was even worse, because she couldn't resist following them.

That's was how even if she made herself go to bed as early as nine it wasn't until few hours later she would actually drop off.

And it was even harder for her if she had someone beside her and once the person closed his eyes it only took him a few moments for already to be asleep. The deep breaths only reminded her of her own state of awakeness and then she could think of nothing else.

She'd had a good reason for the past few months for not be able to sleep, ever since the horrid tv broadcast but after Sherlock had proved everyone that Moriarty was indeed dead by catching his imposter she no longer had anything to worry about at nights. But still, the sleep evaded her.

Molly had tried everything. Even sleeping with earplugs on but they only made her aware of the sound of blood rushing through her veins and that kept her awake just the same as her boyfriend's breathing. Then the spiral was quickly formed when she from time to time would glance at the her alarm clock and count the hours until she had to get up for work. Five hours slowly turned to three and when she finally was too exhausted that she dozed off her alarm went off.

Now the oven clock showed it was well past midnight and for the second time that night Molly silently thanked her partner's talent for heavy slumber as she opened the cupboard under the sink to dug out a waffle iron from amongst the clutter. She plugged it in and while waiting for it to warm up she turned on her laptop and mixed the waffle batter as she watched the latest episode of Doctor Who. When Matt Smith had turned into Peter Capaldi Molly had already finished eating the waffles and strawberry ice cream.

Yawning she made her way into the bathroom to brush her teeth again and minutes later she stood pondering in front of her bedroom door whether to go in or not. After a moment she turned around, picked a random book from the bookshelf and lay down onto the couch. Molly wrapped herself into an old blanket her mother had made, and supported the book against her chest.

If Liam would find her in the morning, which was unlikely as he had to wake two hours after Molly, she could always say she had come here to rest because she hadn't wanted to disturb him with the light on and then had accidentally fallen asleep.

After confessing Tom about her trouble of sleeping next to him and despite her reasoning he had still been offended. That was why Molly didn't want to tell Liam about any of this. After her failed engagement she was determined to make things work out with the pediatrician. Even though they had only been seing each other for a month she had a good feeling about him.

In the silence, that was now only filled by the muffled sounds from the street eight stories beneath her, it took her only twenty minutes to fall asleep.

She woke up on the sofa five hours later to the sound of her mobile's alarm clock. The bedroom door was still closed and if Liam had woken in middle of the night he would have carried her to bed so Molly considered herself lucky. She yawned as she threw the blanket aside and rouse up to stretch her sour muscles. The pathologist had had years of experience from getting only under eight hours asleep per night but still a few more hours wouldn't do harm.

Molly showered, got dressed, ate breakfast with two full cups of coffee and kissed her sleeping boyfriend for goodbye. Liam's response was muffled against the pillow and she couldn't catch what he had said.

* * *

Five hours later at 11 o'clock she was gulping down her third cup of coffee for today while she filed her paper work.

Molly yawned for the countless time and rubbed her mascara free eyes. She had slept as well this night as she had done for the past six since she and Liam had started being intimate and sleeping together on either ones flats. She had to confess she was little sad when she'd found out that their sex apparently wasn't vigorous enough for her to be lulled unconscious after.

The pen in her hand slowed down and her thoughts muddled. She didn't even realize she had dozed off until her head abruptly jerked backwards and she was awake again. Luckily she hadn't spilled coffee all over her work.

It seemed that six consecutive nights of sleeping on a sofa was finally getting to her. Molly would have to think something soon. It was only a temporary option for her and Liam to sleep in their own separate flats on some nights because if someday they were to move in together she would have to solve her problem then anyway.

And honestly even if she only slept on her own she still had a problem that would need solving. Avoiding it, like she had done since childhood, was now getting impossible since she was getting older and couldn't live with only few hours of sleep anymore.

When a few hours later Molly was in the middle of googling sleep therapists in London on her phone and gulping down the last drops of her fourth coffee the lab door opened and a familiar figure strode in like he owned the place.

"Morning Molly. I'm here to check on my cultures." The deep voice greeted her.

"Morning Sherlock. They're where you left them off last time." She answered softly but didn't lift her gaze from her phone.

Ever since Tom had left her after finding out about her feelings towards the consulting detective she'd had a good think about her life and especially her relationship (more like their coexisting, since there was no relationship to speak of) with the mad detective.

The moment she had laid her ring to Tom's palm Molly made a wow to herself to stop spending so much time with Sherlock and not giving in to him whenever he asked for body parts or to assist him on cases. Molly was sure that in time she would get over him and then she would finally be able to settle down with someone who loved her over everything else in the world.

Sherlock stood in the middle of the lab appraising her silently.

He was used to her ramblings and it seemed that lately she had become more and more quiet every time he came to see her.

Yes, It was he who now had to go see her since she no longer would bring him body parts to 221B. It bothered him more than he liked to admit that he missed her company and that was why he had come this morning. His cultures were really just an excuse.

"I brought you coffee..." He started but stopped after seeing the cup near her on the table.

"Oh wonderful. Thank you!" Molly exclaimed and stood up to get the cup he was holding as she forgot her earlier promise to herself to act more restrained around him at the precise moment she saw the steaming coffee in his hand.

She still wouldn't look him in the eye though she knew for certain that he was deducing everything about her right now.

"Having trouble of getting sleep at night?" He asked furrowing his brows.

_Funny_. Molly thought when she finally looked at him. It almost looked like he cared.

"You know perfectly well Sherlock I do! Its pretty obvious from my massive eye bags. You'd have to be blind not to see them! " She snapped

The right corner of his mouth tugged up a bit. Sherlock secretly liked it when the petite pathologist raised her voice at him and that was part of the reason he liked to rile her up. The other part of course was that he really was an inconsiderate git.

While Molly continued her work again Sherlock retrieved his cultures and was now sitting behind his usual microscope.

"I would've thought that being in a new relationship the amount of sex would be a highly useful way of spending energy and ensure some sleep. Is there a problem with him in that front? You have after all been sleeping together for only a week now and if your sex life is already dull I would reconsider seeing him more." The younger Holmes brother said like he was talking about the weather rather than a highly private matter.

"Sherlock!" Sex has nothing to do with it and besides it's not a subject I wish to discuss with you!"

"I thought friends talked about that sort of things." He asked furrowing his brows. "Mary forced me to watch a marathon of some idiotic show called Sex and the city with her when she was on her maternity leave and sex was all that the women talked about."

"Maybe some people discuss it with others but I'm not one of them."

"So what is keeping you awake then?" He asked changing the specimen on his microscope.

"You already know it's to do with Liam so why do you want to discuss it even more?" Molly sighed and cursed her bad luck.

It seemed that when she decided to start avoiding him it was _he_ who at the same moment had started seeking more of her company. He had been doing it more and more lately after he had returned from his short exile and Molly couldn't decide how to react.

"Like I said friends talk about things that bother them and then they help each other out. I have told you before and I'm telling you now that you matter Molly. Can't you see I am making an effort to be nicer to you?" He lifted his eyes from the microscope to her face. His blue eyes far more softer than they had ever been with her.

Molly smiled and nodded. Of course she saw how much effort he had been making after the fall, how could she not when he was on her mind almost all the time. That was after all why she had been so deprived from sleep lately because she was scrutinizing their every encounter to the smallest details.

She was quiet for a awhile and lowered her eyes to her papers but could still feel his gaze upon her. It seemed that he wouldn't give up until she answered.

Molly took a sip from her coffee again and could already feel the downsides that came when drinking too much of it. She really should find some help and what could it hurt to open up about it to him. He might even have some ideas on how to calm her brain.

She gathered her thoughts first and then told him everything starting from when she was a child and it always took her father to read her a bedtime story for her to fall asleep. After his death twenty years ago Molly was now without help for her problem.

Sherlock watched and listened her intently and she appreciated him staying silent and not interrupting her. They had really come a long way in their friendship. He hadn't even made any hurtful comments about Liam or Tom even though she could see how much he wanted to.

He kept listening and when Molly finished Sherlock stayed quiet for awhile thinking of the right thing to stay. Molly returned to her work and it wasn't until half a half an hour later, when she had thought the subject was forgotten, he finally answered.

"You know I have an issue with sleeping myself?"

Molly raised her head at his sudden words.

"Hmmm. Yes I know you don't sleep for days on end but I thought that was just because you were occupied with work."

"That is the reason but I still have trouble of falling asleep even how ever rarely I do try to sleep. You see when I was little our family had a dog who would always sleep in my room at the foot of my bed and I got so used to his breathing that I couldn't fall asleep without him. And now when I'm adult and at the rare times I do try to sleep its hard because I'm just hearing my own breathing."

Molly digested what she had just heard. This was the first time he had opened up to her about his childhood and it made her all warm inside because she knew how special it made her.

"It seems to me we have the opposites of the same problem." She smiled.

"That's not necessarily bad thing." He hummed in concentration and got up from his seat, his cultures completely forgotten.

"Considering what?" She asked confused

"You can't fall asleep with someone who is already asleep and I can't fall asleep until I hear the someone else sleeping."

"Sherlock what are you trying to say?"

"Come to Baker Street tonight at ten pm and bring your pajamas." He says, wraps his blue scarf around his neck and marches to the door in effort to leave. "You and me are having a sleepover."


	2. The Solution

**A/N:**

**-A huge thank you for your reviews, favorites and follows! The feedback gave me a huge smile on my face and extra spurt of inspiration which was how this chapter turned out to be over 3000 words longer than I had intended it to be!**

* * *

When Molly came home from Barts at nine in the evening she barely managed to eat a quick dinner and brush her teeth before slumping down onto her bed and succeeding to scare off Toby, who had been lying on top of her pillow.

There was no Liam bothering her sleep tonight as she'd made an innocent white lie to him after her shift, telling him that she would have to be at work earlier tomorrow morning so they should just stay at their own places for the night. Molly did feel bad for lying but as she wasn't doing anything he would get upset about, she tried to push her guilt out from her mind.

No, she definitely wasn't going to do anything to make her feel more guilty, like for example going to Baker Street like she had been invited to.

Despite of lying down, Molly's head started spin at the memory of Sherlock's visit earlier that day.

When the consulting detective had left her lab, it had taken the pathologist a good amount of time for her brain to begin translate his words into a meaningful sentence.

After a moment of just staring at the lab door, which he had disappeared through, it hit her.

_She couldn't fall asleep if the other person in the room fell asleep before her._

_Sherlock couldn't fall asleep until someone in the room had fallen asleep before him._

_If they were to lie down together, they would naturally help the other to get asleep._

Despite the sheer absurdity of the idea, Molly, after a little bit of pondering, had to admit that he'd come up with the perfect solution which would be beneficial for both of them at the same time.

Molly started giggling at the image in her mind where she and Sherlock sat in their pajamas in 221B drinking hot coco and braiding each other's hair.

Then the realization, of what his offer in reality would entail, sank in and her giggle, which had echoed around the lab, died.

Although he had used her flat and her bedroom as his bolt hole for a few times before, he had always slept in her bed alone while she had been occupying the sofa. And now, Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, the man who she still loved and who had broken her heart countless of times, wanted her to sleep with him in his bed, right next to him.

She gulped and could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. How could she possibly get any sleep at all when surely her heart would be pounding hard in her chest the whole time.

Molly shook her head out of her fantasies and focused back to reality since there was one problem she couldn't ignore.

That was, that even if they would sleep together tonight, her initial problem would still remain unsolved in long run, since one night of good sleep wasn't going to last for long. That was partly why she decided to reject his invitation.

The other, much much larger part, was that she didn't know how she could stand being in so close proximity with him for so long. She had endured so much from him and now that she'd finally decided to get rid of her feelings towards him, this would only damage what she had accomplished so far.

And she had a boyfriend. Molly reminded herself sternly and tried to ignore the fact that maybe he should have been on top of her list, rather than her own feelings, regarding the reasons why she shouldn't agree to Sherlock's proposal.

Molly knew that she had been very lucky when Liam had started to work at St. Bart's a few months ago. He was good hearted, incredibly funny, clever, and also different than all her previous boyfriends in the sense that in him Molly hadn't been looking for a substitute for a certain consulting detective.

No, Liam had managed to rise her interest with by merely being himself and Molly knew that was a big deal.

After realizing Tom's resemblance to Sherlock Molly was glad to see that physically Liam happened to share only one thing in common with Sherlock and that was his height. And personally the men were only similar in one thing as well. They both were smart. After Tom Molly had realized it wasn't enough that the man she was with was kind, because what she needed too was someone who challenged her mentally.

That made her further think that perhaps she'd had a certain preference for men a long time before even meeting Sherlock and he had just happened to fit in so well that he'd managed to make every other man disappear in her eyes. And knowing that now, maybe she would find someone else who she could feel such a powerful love towards to like she did for him. Maybe he really wasn't the only fish in the sea.

When she'd met Liam she was even more convinced.

With those thoughts on her mind, Molly had gathered the papers into her arms and had left the lab to go down to the morgue where she would be starting her second autopsy of the day.

She had been absolutely worn out the rest of the day and now she should've been passed out instantly when her face hit her pillow. But she wasn't. Neither was she forty minutes later because Sherlock's offer still kept ringing in her head and wouldn't give her peace.

Then she realized she hadn't actually texted him saying she wasn't going to come over. Why hadn't she done that?

Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of caffeine that still pumped through her veins or the sleep deprivation but his invitation started to seem very alluring to her. No, it definitely wasn't because she still harbored a dash of hope for the insufferable man.

Before she could start to begin question her state of mind Molly jumped out of the bed and changed back into her jeans and blouse.

She was going to continue her life with Liam but why shouldn't she have this final "moment" with Sherlock before letting him go for good?

For Sherlock to be the final thing she saw at the end of the day and then the first thing she saw the next morning when she opened her eyes, was a dream come true for Molly. Admittedly when she'd had that thought for the first time years ago, she couldn't have imagined this happening unless they were in a committed relationship.

How wrong she'd been.

Although this wasn't nowhere near what she had ultimately hoped from the situation, it was the closest chance she was going to get with him and that would have to do.

Molly dug her dusty gym bag from the bottom of her wardrobe and stuffed it with her pajamas and other essentials she might need when staying away from home for the duration of a night. Switching off all the lights in the flat and with a good night's wish to Toby she was out of the door.

Outside on the street she hailed a cab and half an hour later she was knocking on the door of 221B Baker street.

"I'll get it!"

Through the door Molly heard the muffled sounds of the consulting detective yelling at someone, Mrs. Hudson most likely.

"Did you hear what I said? Get back into your flat. This doesn't concern you."

"No need to be so snappish young man."

Molly frowned while adjusting her bag in her shoulder. She had no idea how Mrs. Hudson could stand him sometimes.

After she heard Sherlock inside taking the final steps down the stairs the door finally opened. There he stood in front of her, wearing his blue dressing gown and underneath it a grey t- shirt and loose pajama bottoms which looked very much like real silk.

Molly had never in her life seen him in anything but his dapper suits and she couldn't help but drink in the sight.

"You're late." His dry remark got her attention return back to reality.

"That's because I didn't know if I wanted to come until only half an hour ago." She said quietly while trying to look him in the eyes instead of what he was wearing.

"But you decided to come anyway?" He asked sounding, if Molly didn't know him better, a little nervous.

"Well obviously. I'm here aren't I?" Molly huffed rolled her eyes teasingly at him and was rewarded with a genuine smirk from Sherlock.

He rather liked it whenever she could outsmart him.

Standing aside, Sherlock gave Molly room to come into the foyer and she did so while he shut the door behind her. Before neither could say anything more a door opened behind them and Mrs. Hudson came from her flat again.

"Oh it is you Molly dear! I thought I heard your voice. What on earth are you doing here this late?" Mrs. Hudson greeted Molly with a warm hug as she failed to see Sherlock rolling his eyes at her.

"Hello Mrs. Hudson. I..."

Molly's words got caught in her throat as she was trying to come up with a good excuse for her appearance. She had no desire to explain why she was here since the reason was both long and slightly weird.

Luckily she was given more time to think when the older woman interrupted her.

"I hope he's not forced you to come all this way at this time of the night!" Mrs. Hudson shook her head and turned to look at Sherlock next, throwing a disproving glare at his direction.

"You really should know better Sherlock that it's not safe for a woman to be out in the streets this late. It's not gentlemanly and I would have believed your mother raised you better."

Then she turned to Molly.

" And If you don't mind me saying Molly dear, but you should start standing up to him more. Nothing good comes when you let him run all over you constantly." Mrs. Hudson tut tutted the pathologist.

"Mrs. Hudson I don't think you have the moral high ground to start lecturing Molly about what she caves into since you yourself took on to manage a whole drug cartel because a man asked you to do so." Sherlock replied and raised his eyebrows at the older woman.

Before the landlady could snap back at her tenant, Molly decided to intervene before even a bigger argument was born.

"It's alright Mrs. Hudson. I'm not here because he asked me to it's just that the walls in my flat were painted today and I needed a place to stay for tonight and Sherlock was kind enough to offer his spare room."

"Oh." The landlady uttered and looked a little bothered by her snap judgment. "Well in that case, but still are you sure you wouldn't rather stay at mine's? After all my flat isn't a toxic waste zone." She said to Molly and at the final sentence threw another glare at Sherlock who ignored her completely.

Oh how the landlady wished the good doctor Watson would still be living here. He always managed to keep her tenant at least somewhat under control.

"No thank you. She's happy to stay in John's old room." Sherlock answered before Molly could even open her mouth.

_In John's room my ass_. Molly thought and tried not to smile when she nodded at Mrs. Hudson to confirm Sherlock's words. Even though it hadn't been officially said between them it was obvious that they weren't going to be sleeping in separate rooms tonight.

"Alright then. Good night you two and Molly don't hesitate to knock on my door if you change your mind." She said and patted Molly's shoulder before turning away to finally leave.

When the woman reached her door she turned around to look at the pair still standing in the foyer. "And sorry Molly for nagging you."

"Don't I get an apology too?" Sherlock asked but sounded no where near offended. "After all you managed to insult my manners, way of living and my hospitality in under a minute's time."

"No apology for you young man until you return my knitting needles. And clean off the blood this time." She said giving him a final stern look before turning away.

"I honestly don't understand how his parents ever stand him for eighteen years…" The woman mumbled as she opened her door and went in.

Molly and Sherlock watched the door closing after her as they found themselves alone again.

"Shall we go upstairs?"

" Let me take your bag for you."

They shut their mouths and looked at each other as they realized they'd both spoken at the same time.

Sherlock was the first to recover.

"Good idea. Let's continue the conversation upstairs when there's less chance of us being **eavesdropped**." He said, raising his voice at the last word while throwing a glance at the door of 221A.

Despite Molly trying to tell him she could manage the stairs with the bag, Sherlock took it from her anyway and gestured for her climb up the stairs before him.

As he followed her, he tried his hardest not to look at her swaying hips.

Why was it, that the most confusing things like this in the pathologist had started to gain his attention more and more lately? The sway of her hips, the firmness of her bum ,she biting her lower lip when thinking something hard, her bosom that showed up when she wore a shirt with a low neckline, her deep sighs when she let her long, thick hair out of the tight ponytail and then when it cascaded over her back … and the list went on and on.

As these trivial aspects concerning Molly, had started to invade his mind palace he found himself unable know what to make of them, since unfortunately for him, decades of shutting away all sentimental feelings in his brain had now left him incapable of recognizing those little sensations as signs of something much bigger than just physical attraction.

And so, he continued to dismiss those feelings, as he with effort tore his eyes away from her bum.

Strict quid pro quo. That was why he had invited her over tonight. She needed help and after all that Molly had ever done for him, Sherlock felt there was nothing he wouldn't do for her and so had come to her rescue. It was only luck that she was able to help him in return too.

As for the content that this night would have to entail, he saw no problem with sleeping in the same bed as her. In his life Sherlock had spend countless of nights with close approximate to drug addicts, criminals… and hell, he'd even been forced to sleep with John in a tent when they'd been solving the murder of a wilderness guide last summer.

That was why the intimacy of their upcoming act was completely lost on him at this point.

"What's all this?" Molly asked baffled, when she came to his living room.

On the coffee table she saw a towel and an extra toothbrush next to a cup of something steaming liquid in it.

"I did some research. The warm milk will supposedly be helpful to guarantee a good sleep."

"Did you research how to have a sleepover?" Molly smiled at him

"Well I haven't exactly have much experience with that sort of thing…"

"You've never had a slumber party? Not even as a kid?" Molly couldn't help but ask. She knew he mustn't have been the most social person as a child either but surely he had even once…

"Not really my area. I see you have brought some things with you." He changed the subject while looking down at her bag in his hand.

"Yeah. I brought the essentials and some spare clothing. I figured I could go straight to work tomorrow morning as my neighbor promised to feed Toby."

"Good." He replied setting the bag down.

The two stood in the silence both unsure of how to proceed. Even Sherlock felt a little perplexed at the situation because although he had many times slept near other people it had never been his option to do so. Even with all his few sexual partners, he had never spend the night sleeping with them after the act.

"I suggest you drink your milk and follow me to my room after brushing your teeth." Sherlock finally said and started to turn away.

"Uhmm.. Would you perhaps have an extra mattress I could sleep on in your room? Or a sleeping bag would be fine too." She managed to say without stuttering while glancing around the room and trying not to look at him.

Although Molly had already gotten used to the idea of them sleeping in the same bed and was also looking forward to it as well, she couldn't help but try to find the last escape from the pressing situation.

Sherlock scoffed.

"Don't be ridiculous Molly. I have a queen sized bed which is very spacious. Besides you're so small we could have a third normal sized person sleeping with us and it wouldn't be over crowded so trust me. Your virtues are perfectly safe."

Not hearing what other protests she might have he marched to his bedroom leaving Molly in the living room.

With butterflies in her stomach she gulped down the lovely warm milk and then retreated to his bathroom in order to brush her teeth again and to change into her pajamas.

Five minutes later she came back dressed in her warm fleece pajamas. She admitted it was little too warm to be wearing this thick clothing in summer but her self-consciousness prevented her from wearing any less revealing garments in front of him.

When she came to his bedroom fiddling with the hem of her pajama top she found Sherlock standing in the middle of the room doing something with his phone.

When he put it away and looked at her, he scoffed at her again.

"Honestly Molly? It's the middle of July."

Then to her surprise he went to his wardrobe and pulled out a t shirt and silky pajama bottoms. They were similar to what he was wearing but the shirt was white and the trousers dark red.

"I couldn't…"

"Take them. Or else you'll be boiled."

Molly looked at him and the clothing but when he made no effort to give up, she grumbled and took them from him. With another trip to the bathroom, she returned with the ends of the long trousers rolled up to her ankles and holding her arms protectively around her shirt front as the white fabric had turned out much more see-through than she'd expected.

Sherlock seemed to realize the same thing and Molly could swear she saw his cheeks turn little pink.

Also if he was truly honest to himself, the sight of her in his clothes did something to his chest as it seemed like his breath was trying harder to get in and out.

Concentrating on looking away from her, Sherlock ruffled his hair and then gestured towards the bed.

"You can choose which side you want. It makes no difference to me as I usually sleep in the middle."

Molly settled to the side closer to the door and quickly dived under the covers, drawing the duvet up to her chin. The sheets smelled like flowers and she gathered he'd changed them for her. She was taken by his gesture but also little disappointed that she couldn't smell his natural musky scent from them.

Sherlock followed her action and soon they were both resting only centimeters away from each other both gazing at the sealing. When he realized the lights were still on he got out of the bed to turn them off and then returned to her side.

"Well.. I guess it's good night then." Molly said and was certain she was not going to get any sleep that night as all her senses felt hyper active. She started to turn away from him but his voice stopped her.

"You mentioned your father used to read you asleep when you were young. Do you think I could do something similar so you'll get asleep faster?"

"I think that might help." She said but was uncertain if his deep velvety voice would manage to lull her asleep or rather keep her awake with being too mesmerized by it.

"I'll be right back."

Sherlock got out of the bed and Molly heard him shuffling through papers in the living room before coming back. He turned on the little bedside lamp and started reading, what else than one of the case files he had nicked from Lestrade.

They had seemed like a good idea for an exciting bedtime story, but unfortunately the idea backfired magnificently when fifteen minutes later the pair was in a deep conversation over the details of the case.

Molly, who hadn't been the pathologist doing the post mortem on Mr. Pike, was now explaining to him all the mistakes the other pathologist had done.

"Well that just proves it." Sherlock said looking at her intently after she had finished.

"Proves what?" She asked curious and little surprised under his gaze.

"Why it's you I only work with rather than any other pathologist."

Molly couldn't help but blush. "I thought you only worked with me because I was the only one to put up with you and I always gave you what you wanted."

"No… That's not it at all. You're one of the most smartest people I knew. That's why I work only with you." He said softly, still not taking his eyes away from her face.

"Thank you Sherlock."

"Besides, I still work with you despite that you no longer give into me as much as you used to and you have recently opted to spent less and less time with me."

She lowered her eyes from his face as she hadn't know that he'd noticed her efforts to get further away from him. Molly had thought he didn't care but maybe he did after all.

Sherlock seemed to snap out of what ever it was that he was in and dropped the files down to the floor.

"I think the case files weren't the best idea for a bed time story considering you as the audience. How about something more boring and tedious instead?" He hummed and reached to take his mobile from the bedside table.

"Maybe an article from the Daily Mail?" He asked looking at the cringing pathologist.

Perfect, he decided. Nothing better than those brainless stories to make her fall asleep out of boredom. As Molly settled down more comfortably Sherlock skimmed the headlined looking for the perfect article.

_**A woman marries her childhood sweetheart only a day before dying to cancer**_**. **

_No, since that would only result in Molly crying. _The mere thought of that sight made him shudder.

_**A **__**Pediatrician charged with several sexual offences against his patients.**_

_Maybe not the best idea since her boyfriend is in the same profession_.

_**Men and women are terrible at flirting, reveal researchers.**_

_Perfect._

Molly closed her eyes as he began to read.

"Humans are terrible at detecting flirting, researchers have found. They say the key to letting someone know you like them is to abandon all subtlety. In a lab experiment, only 36 percent of men..."

She listened and after a short while she could feel her consciousness drifting away. The day had been absolutely horrible and now in the warmness of the lightly lit room she felt herself finally relax. Molly hadn't known she was able to feel so calm in his presence but the short evening had proved her wrong as his politeness and kind words, which seemed to come without any ulterior motives, made her feel happy.

Molly opened her eyes once more to take in the consulting detective as he was focused on reading the article. He seemed to just read it without thinking since he didn't make any side comments. When she couldn't hold her eyelids open any longer Molly closed them and finally fell asleep.

After Sherlock had reached the end of the long article he was glad he couldn't remember anything about it. Hearing the soft breaths coming from beside him, Sherlock turned to see Molly sleeping soundly, turned on her left side facing him, her right hand tucked under her cheek. He had never seen her looking so peaceful and innocent.

He gazed at her for awhile longer thinking how lucky he was to have her as his friend.

Sherlock put his mobile away, turned off the small lamp and settled himself down on his right side, facing her. Watching her chest rise and fall and hearing her breathing made his mind concentrate as he was able to gather his loose thoughts. When his head didn't feel like bustling in every direction anymore he was finally able to fall asleep.

* * *

He had thought it was going to be so simple to be in the same small confined space with her but was proven wrong when at few minutes over midnight the consulting detective woke up abruptly to find his sleeping pathologist's bum, the same one he had marveled only few hours ago, pressed against his now semi-hard manhood.

Sherlock's brain seemed to shut down completely at the sensation and for awhile he could do nothing to pull away. When his thoughts finally came back to him, Sherlock noticed she wasn't entirely to blame for the situation as it seemed that his own left hand had circled around her waist and he'd pulled her tightly against his chest while he'd been asleep.

He couldn't deny that during the years he had known the shy woman there hadn't been times when he'd felt sexual attraction towards her but he had always managed to ignore them. This… this however was certainly something new as he had never been in so close proximity to her in those moments.

Managing to quiet his beating heart he was convinced that in the morning these actions and thoughts wouldn't be nothing more than a bad dream that he would be able to disregard without a thought.

When he was about to loosen his grip from her and to carefully pull himself away Molly unconsciously backed towards him, as if not wanting to loose the touch of him. And then she did something unimaginable.

She sighed in her sleep and adjusted her position while leaning even tighter against his chest and his cock. And then… then she wiggled her bum.

Sherlock's eyes rolled backwards at the friction he felt and his mind conjured up countless images of him towering over her naked body and pushing himself inside of her and making her scream his name in ecstasy so that the whole neighborhood would hear her.

His eyes snapped open as he quickly pulled his hand from around her middle.

No. He was not going to give into his carnal desires over some meek stammering pathologist. He hadn't even ceded to The Woman's charms when she'd tried to get him into bed with her so why would Molly Hooper of all people be the reason he broke his sixteen years of celibacy.

_Ridiculous_. He scoffed silently.

But a look down to his crotch region seemed to suggest otherwise.

Now, he could retreat to his bathroom to take care of it, but he knew he wouldn't be able to think nothing else than the woman beside him when he came and so he decided just to let things cool down.

After ten minutes of strict self discipline he felt the pressure in his cock lessening and he turned away from her trying to get back to sleep, and hoping that this was the first and last time that night he would find himself in that situation.

He did managed not to wake up during the rest of the night, but Molly meanwhile wasn't so lucky.

At little over two o'clock her eyes snapped open as she woke up to a soft moan that had come out of her own mouth.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat as she realized she had Sherlock's two arms circling her waist and she could feel his chest pressed into her back. But that wasn't the reason she had been moaning. It was because his another hand had somehow slipped inside of her t shirt and was now lightly grazing his bare abdomen.

Then she came to the other realization at how tightly she was leaning against his crotch and she blushed vehemently as she felt his cock pressing sweetly against her ass.

The even breaths she heard coming from behind her assured her that he was in no way in control of his body.

_Why was it that I had to wake up to this embarrassing situation and not him?_

Her thoughts ended abruptly as she felt his left hand leaving her stomach and travelling up to her breasts.

She could stop herself just in time before another moan, this one much louder, was about to leave her lips. His hand cupped her right breast lightly and massaged it awhile and then moved onto cover the left one as well. When she thought that was all, he then surprised her again by rubbing his fingers against her nipples that hardened immediately under his touch.

While he was doing that, she could feel him leaning his head forward until it rested in the crook of her neck. Sherlock sighed deeply and nuzzled his nose to her skin, breathing in her scent.

To her horror, Molly could feel the dampness spreading in her knickers as an overwhelming sensation slowly rouse inside her.

She didn't know what to do. At one side she wanted to let him continue but she knew very well that this wasn't what he truly wanted as she was certain he felt no attraction towards her what so ever. The thought sting her chest and that was how she gathered herself to pull away from him.

First she carefully grabbed both of his wrists and detached them from her body. She held her breath when she heard him cough a little and was afraid that he'd woken up. If he did, how would she even start to explain to him why he was in this position with her.

To her relief he continued his sleep as he turned away from Molly who was now freed from his embrace.

Then she herself turned away from the sleeping man and let the sleep envelope her once more. For the rest of the night both of them slept soundly but when the morning came and Molly woke up, she found him still sleeping beside her and his arms again wrapped around her in tight embrace. At least his hands were above her shirt this time. Also unlike during night they were now facing each other and Molly could see his peaceful face.

Gently she loosened his arms off, got out of the bed and quietly tiptoed to the bathroom to take a shower.

When she came out, now fully dressed in her day clothes, she found him still dressed in his pajamas and his robe in the kitchen. She thought he was just in the middle of doing one of his experiments when her nose picked up the smell of bacon.

Until now Molly had been too embarrassed to look or talk to him but now she focused her eyes on the man hovering above the stove.

"Are you cooking breakfast?" She asked more than astounded. Based on what she'd learned from John she could have swore he lived on take away and didn't even knew or began to care how to prepare food himself.

No answer came from him as he just gestured for her to sit down at the table which he had cleared from all his experiments. She complied and watched him flip the bacon strips onto a plate that already had scrambled eggs at the side. How he knew she liked her eggs was a mystery to her. With a ding the toaster on the counter pushed out two slices of toast which he smeared with jam before laying them next to the bacon.

Looking very proud of himself he put the plate down right in front of her and waited for her approval.

"Thanks. This is lovely Sherlock." She smiled at him and could feel her mouth watering at the sight of the delicious breakfast.

The right corner Sherlock's mouth tugged up a bit as she saw he was more than happy to have succeeded in making her something she liked.

He took the coffee pot from next to the sink and poured them both cup full's. He settled down in the seat in front of her and began to read the morning newspaper while occasionally sipping his coffee.

"Aren't you going to eat anything besides that coffee?"

"No. I ate the other day so I'm good for awhile."

The silence settled between and was only broken by sounds of Molly chewing the corner of her toast and Sherlock skimming through the paper.

"So did you sleep well?" Sherlock asked struggling to keep his tone calm while hiding behind his papers as he could feel his cheeks and tips of his ears warm up to the memory of what had happened last night.

"Oh yes. Absolutely fine." She replied and was glad that his face was covered by the paper as she didn't want him to see her blushing.

Despite the incident last night, she had found herself this morning more relaxed and well slept than in a long time. She knew very well it was because of his company.

"Good. That means our effort was successful."

"What about you, how was your sleep?"

"Yes. Fine. Better than in a long time." He replied trying to sound nonchalant.

"Unfortunately this night doesn't solve my problem in the long run." She sighed.

"Then we'll just have to make a habit out of it."

Molly's coffee, which she had been drinking at the moment, flew out of her mouth at his words.

"W-what? What do you mean make a habit? You want to continue us… us…" She couldn't help but stammer trying to find the right words to describe their... what ever it was that they were doing.

Sherlock lowered his paper to finally look at the flushed pathologist in the eye.

"I mean that because this night turned out to be more than profitable than what I initially thought the most reasonable solution is to keep up this arrangement." Sherlock explained and looked at her in a way like he was merely describing one of his lab experiments to her.

Molly just gaped at him as couldn't start to comprehend his words. When she was about to respond she was interrupted by Sherlock who could see she needed more explaining.

"Experience tells me that I only require two nights of sleep a week, eight hours both times seem to be the most beneficial for my system, and I know you manage to sleep at least somewhat, on your nights alone or with that boyfriend of yours, so it would be useful for us to sleep together at least two nights a week. Now we can't set up any certain days since both of our works schedules are highly changeable…"

"Hang on. I haven't even said yes!"

"Is it Liam you're worried about? I know you could explain your situation to him but are you sure he'd understand? After all look what happened with Tom."

Molly looked at the man who was wearing an all too smug expression on his face after successfully managing to read her thoughts.

_Damn him_. She thought. _Damn him and his deductions_. It looked like he had already taken account every possible excuse she could come up with and was now resolute to change her mind.

_But why? _She couldn't help but wonder. Surely he couldn't have that much of a problem with sleeping alone that he needed her help with it.

"Alright. I guess that would work. At least it will save me a fortune on not having to find a therapist or something." She condescended when an devilish idea popped into her head.

"Good." He replied stoically but Molly could see behind his emotionless mask that her answer had taken him by surprise.

"When do you think we should ummhh… meet again?" She asked wiping the coffee from the table with her napkin.

"We should be fine for at least three to four days so let's decide the next time when the need arises."

"Okay. I have day sifts this whole week but I promised to go with Liam to dinner this Wednesday so other nights than that are fine for me."

Sherlock nodded and went back to read the paper while Molly finished her breakfast and left the kitchen to pack her bag since she had to leave for work.

"Are you coming to the lab today?" She asked when she was minutes later taking her thin summer jacket from the coat rack.

"Possibly. Lestrade texted me with a case half an hour ago. First I'll have to see if it really is a six."

"I guess I'll see you when I see you." Molly said brightly and dug her umbrella out of her bag since it had started raining outside.

"Goodbye Molly." She heard him say when she left the kitchen to walk down the stairs.

"Bye Sherlock!"

When he heard the front door opening and closing, he threw the newspaper to the side and marched to his living room, the hem of his dressing gown flowing behind him. As he reached the window he lifted his violin under his chin and started playing a soft melody he was composing at the spot and looked down to the street where the pathologist was walking to the direction of the tube station.

Sherlock had indeed been surprised by how easily Molly had complied into his will regarding the sleeping arrangement. He was glad though, since he planned to further examine the sensations she had woken in him last night.

Even though he had been dead convinced last night that he'd be able to leave the memories of the night behind him, he had been more than little put off when he'd woken up in the morning to hear Molly showering on the other side of the wall and had found his member throbbing as he couldn't help but image her naked in the steamy room, the water cascading down her form as it reached down all the way to between her legs.

That was the moment he had decided that little more experimentation wouldn't go amiss since maybe once he knew what was happening to him, he could then easily get rid of all those unwanted feelings.

He marveled at his genius plan as his lean figure left the window to get ready to go to the Yard.

A block away from him Molly grinned widely despite the rain and the grayness of the morning. Sherlock's insistence to get her agree to continue their arrangement had gotten her thinking that maybe his subconscious mind was after all a tell tale sign of some deeper feelings he possibly felt for her.

Although she didn't want to get her hopes up for nothing, Molly still wouldn't rest until she got to the bottom of his true feelings.


	3. Molly's Plan

Molly couldn't believe her ears when she heard the noise she had woken up to suddenly in the middle of the night. Her lips widened into a wide grin.

_He_ was humming in his sleep.

Without daring to turn to face the man beside her, Molly listened. The melody was mostly calm but with short rises in the tempo once in awhile. She had never known anyone who hummed in their sleep but of course it would be the violin virtuoso, also known as Sherlock Holmes, who would.

The pair was currently on their second sleepover, which didn't happen to take place until week and a half after the first one since Sherlock and John had been called to investigate a case to Scotland.

Molly was secretly little sad by this sudden development at first but soon cheered up when she realized she could use the extra time to her advantage. For those ten days she further pondered on her feelings about the whole agreement of theirs, since she now had experienced it in first hand, and also went through what had taken place that night detail by detail. Molly had to admit to herself how much she'd actually enjoyed sleeping next to him and to have his arms around her and his solid form pressed to her back.

She had never felt safer in her life.

Then her cheeks warmed when she then remembered what _else_ had been pressed against her.

After reviewing even the tiniest of moments she then thought what to do with the gathered information and how to proceed with her plan which had already started slowly forming in the same morning of their first sleepover.

Despite her resolute mind, sleep deprivated Molly(she'd continued on seeing Liam) found herself nervous again when she'd received a text from Sherlock this morning he more or less demanding for her to join him tonight at Baker street. She had then asked him why couldn't they be at her place this time but she had given into him after agreeing with him that his place was closer to St. Barts so she could sleep later in the morning.

Also she'd realized that it perhaps wasn't the best idea to sleep with him in the same bed she did with her boyfriend.

Neither Molly nor Sherlock needed much that night until they both fell unconscious. Even for Molly, who had been meaning to go ahead with her plan that night, the stress and lack of sleep proved too much and almost the moment she laid her head down, she was asleep and wouldn't wake up after the humming occurrence anymore until the morning.

Sherlock, despite not having slept properly due to the case, somehow was interrupted from his sleep an hour later when his ears pricked up to a soft murmur coming from the petite woman next to him. Her voice was barely a whisper but he could still hear what she said.

"The cause of death was most likely asphyxiation …_ sigh_… based on the amount of water found in his lungs but…Sherlock?"

The moment his name left her lips he almost thought for a second she'd woken up, but the next sentence reassured him she was still talking in her sleep. He was thankful since he had edged closer to her, his face only inches away from her face, in effort to hear better and it would be uncomfortable if she were to wake up to that sight.

"Sherlock what are you doing with that saw? No. Put it away, you're not getting any parts of him to yourself. I mean it. Back away or I'll stab you with my scalpel."

Sherlock almost chuckled out loud. Her imagination seemed to be running wild since although he had on numerous occasions more or less demanded body parts from her, he had never done so as menacingly.

He listened to her babble a little while longer - why he wanted to know what Molly's unconscious was talking, he didn't know. - her voice calming him like his did to hers, until sleep conquered him again.

They slept, Molly facing towards the centre of the bed and Sherlock turned away from her, neither of them aware how their breathing became synchronized, almost like drawing comfort from each other's company. A moment later his peaceful sleep faltered a bit when an unpleasant dream penetrated his mind and his body became restless. While still remaining unconscious, his hands darted up towards his face and tucked the pillow better under his head his legs kicking under the blanket wrapping it's edge into a mess around his feet.

After the worst part of the dream dissolving ,Sherlock settled down but only for a moment before his eyes scrunched up again, his dream returning even nastier, and he abruptly flipped around to his other side. He couldn't help his hands from fumbling forwards in the air, searching for something, until they hit something soft and he immediately started pulling the warm lump towards himself like a drowning man does to life-buoy.

Meanwhile Molly, having grown cold after Sherlock had hogged the blanket almost all to himself, unconsciously but still happily welcomed his warm body and curled herself around him as his fidgeting came to a permanent end when he now had her in his arms. She laid her cheek against his chest and he rested his chin on top of her head, both content. Hours later, when the dawn came and the first rays of the sun lid the dark room the detective and his pathologist were still wrapped around each other.

It was Molly who woke up first but her startled flinch at noticing their closeness woke him too and they jumped out of the bed at the same time, both embarrassed, although Sherlock did a good job of feigning composed and thus almost fooling her. They went on with their morning routines (well Molly did since nothing Sherlock ever did could be regarded as routinely) she avoiding eye contact at any cost.

He surprised her again by making her breakfast and then settled down reading his morning paper opposite to her while Molly ate, and sneaking glances at her when she didn't see. Molly thanked him, washed the dishes and darted off to the bathroom to ready herself.

Even though it was the second time they've done this everything seemed so natural to her that when she was about to leave the flat through the kitchen entrance she almost bend down when she passed him and hugging him before she remembered that he was not her boyfriend and likely never would be.

Her real boyfriend, Liam, is currently at the other side of the city thinking she has slept the night in her own flat due to a headache, alone.

Molly leaved hastily with a barely audible good bye to the detective who stared after her for a good minute thinking how oddly his body and mind had reacted to her close presence that morning. Sexual attraction was one thing and he understood that feeling, but this was something else.. Before his brains could wonder into dangerous waters with that line of deductions he quickly put the paper down, retrieving his mobile and checked the blog for any possible cases to help him take his mind off of the petite pathologist.

When he was dressing himself into his suit before leaving to the murder scene (it was only a four but he would take anything just so he could have something else to think about) he briefly wondered perhaps it would be wise to call off this thing they had.

No. The decision came to him as soon as the thought of not sleeping together anymore was suggested. His work in the Scotland case had been much easier after having a full night of sleep before and he couldn't turn this opportunity down now, considering how positively it effected his work.

Yes, that was it. He must keep this up since nothing was more important than work.

Also he still needed to get to the bottom of how he exactly felt towards the pathologist and this agreement was the fastest way to do that. As soon as he figured that the sooner he could put an end to those strange effects her presence caused in him. They were starting to distract him whenever he worked in the lab with her and he wasn't going to allow nothing to come between his and his work.

Before the picture of her face only inches away from his and the feeling of her warm tiny body would pop up into his brain he pulled on his coat and scarf and like a wind darted down the stairs and onto the street.

For the four next days life continued like it had before their agreement had started. He visited her in her lab, whether it was due to work or his experiments (for some reason the latter ones seemed to take his time more these days Molly wondered) and she would in return visit Baker Street on her way to home and work, to drop by bringing body parts or just merely drink tea and converse with Sherlock.

Molly was elbows deep in Mr. Hamilton on Wednesday when she heard her phone chirp in the pocket of her lab coat.

"_COME OVER TONIGHT. –SH"_

Molly rolled her eyes. Although he was more considerate to her after returning from his "death" it still didn't mean he'd make an effort to be polite to her in everyday situations.

She put the phone back to her lab coat and waited.

After a few minutes a new text arrived

"_IF CONVENIENT. –SH"_

Nope, she thought, still not good enough and pocketed her iphone again

3 minutes later…

"_PLEASE." –SH" _

2 Minutes after….

"_MOLLY, CAN YOU PLEASE COME OVER TONIGHT__**? **__(SEE I ALSO USED THE QUESTION MARK. WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?)-SH"_

"_YES SHERLOCK THAT IS FINE FOR ME. I'LL BE AT YOUR PLACE BY NINE. __ (YOU KNOW THERE ARE ACTUALLY PEOPLE IN THE WORLD TO WHOM POLITENESS COMES NATURALLY. SHOCKING RIGHT? –MH"_

"_COME AT SEVEN THIRTY. I HAVE A NEW EXPERIMENT PLANNED OUT WITH THOSE LUNGS YOU BROUGHT YESTERDAY AND I REQUIRE YOUR ASSISTANCE. (USELESS AND NOTHING BUT A WASTE OF TIME.) –SH"_

"_I'LL COME AT 8 AND DON'T ARGUE OR I WON'T COME UNTIL NINE. (YOU DO YOU REALIZE THAT IF YOU'D USED THOSE "USELESS" PHRASES IN THE YOUR FIRST TEXT, WE WOULD HAVE ALREADY FINISHED THIS CONVERSATION TEN MINUTES AGO?) –MH" _

Unsurprisingly there were no messages from Sherlock after that

Molly continued her work feeling much more cheerful than before his texts. As she finished the autopsy and began the more boring paper work she couldn't help but think of how to start executing her plan tonight.

Before she had shared a bed with the consulting detective Molly had been dead set on the fact that Sherlock Holmes carried no feelings, sexual or romantic, towards her. She knew the man insisted that he was appalled by any kind of tender physical contact but she remembered how in the morning of the night they'd last spend together, he had seemed to linger on his place when they'd woken up. If she wouldn't have jumped out of the bed, how long would he have stayed there, their bodies in close contact.

Further more was him giving everyone the impression of being asexual, a lie? And what about him insisting on being married to his work and thinking sentiment as a deadly flaw?

The answer to the first point, based on his rather large erection he had sported the first night they'd shared the bed, was definitely yes. The man did have bodily urges like all heterosexual males in the world when in close contact with a non relative female.

And when it came to the question of him being able to have romantic feelings, there had been the Christmas with that Irene Adler woman when Molly had seen how sad he had been when he'd identified her, from her naked body. She didn't like to replay the memory any longer and instead she focused on the happy fact that it supported the theory that he could care for someone romantically.

Based on these observations maybe there was a chance for her but Molly had to admit that his actions towards her might've only been caused by nothing more than her feminine body and if it'd been some other woman in her place, he would've acted the same. So naturally, the first thing Molly needed to find out was that which possibility was the truth.

Did he care for her, or only her body?

Molly knew she needed to approach this discreetly, because if he caught her out and she was wrong in her assumption he had feelings for her, it would be beyond humiliating for her. To help her in this Molly had dived her plan into sections. If she wouldn't get caught in the first stage of the plan and he would show that his reactions were caused by her, and not merely her body, she would start the second part of the operation, which consisted of getting Sherlock aware of his own feeling.

Molly doubted that if he fancied her and knew it, he wouldn't spend time with her as much as he did these days, and would actually avoid her more because he was convinced he didn't need the sentiment in his life.

She was currently back in the morgue and got a rather horrified expression from a nurse who had been forced to come down to the morgue to borrow some equipment when she saw Molly detaching her patients eyeballs and snickering to herself at the same time.

The nurse left hastily and Molly sighed. She really wasn't a people person, was she?

Molly's laughter had been a result of her thinking that her reasoning of the plan sounded similar to Sherlock when he told her about the times he'd executed his rather less scientific experiments, like the one with replacing John's shampoo bottle's contents with hair growth volumizer, in effort to see how it effected people whose hair growth was normal. It had given the detective some interesting results but Sherlock had been forced to stop the experiment after he'd seen John liking his mustache enough to grow it out instead of shaving the hair off every morning. (This he had told Molly after John had grown the hair back during his "death")

"At least you don't mind me, do you Mr. Peterson?" She murmured and moved onto his other eyeball. He had been a body donor and now his parts were going to be given to medical students (and to Sherlock) to experiment on.

When lunch break came and her thoughts returned to the plan.

Then there was of course the major problem which was how to actually execute it, but after talking to her friend Betsy, who was a master manipulator when it came to the opposite sex, she had a few ideas lined up. Molly couldn't actually do anything when he was awake and had full brain capacity, since he'd most likely catch on to her, but in his sleep Sherlock would surely be less self-conscious when he talked and wouldn't most likely remember it in the morning. (Molly had jumped for joy after remembering John telling her that Sherlock occasionally talked in his sleep)

Molly's step was light when thee hours later her shift finished and she walked out her lab to go to the lift. Her smile disappeared when the doors opened and Liam came out.

"Hey Honey." He greeted her with a smile and hugged her.

"Oh Liam hi! What are you doing here?" Molly asked once she was released from his embrace. She hoped he wouldn't notice her voice jumping up a few octaves.

"Well I know I said I had a night shift today but I lied so I could surprise you by taking you out." Liam smiled and kissed her rather passionately, although Molly was too nervous to fully respond the kiss.

She glanced at her wrist watch quickly when he lead her inside the lift. The clock was now five and she had to go back to her flat to retrieve her overnight back and leave for Baker Street at seven the latest. That left her two hours to spend with her boyfriend.

"So where are you taking me?"

"That Spanish restaurant Mark told us when we saw him last time. I made a reservation for us to five thirty since it's not far away from here."

Molly sighed in relief. That was perfect since it left her enough time to dine with him and then go to Baker Street. Now she would only have to think of a good reason as to why she couldn't spend the night with Liam after.

The restaurant was lovely and the food was amazing. Honestly she couldn't believe how lucky she was to have Liam as her boyfriend. He seemed to really care for her the best was, that being a doctor himself, he didn't get repulsed by her profession like all her previous boyfriends.

But thinking of that made her even more guilty about Sherlock, their agreement, and her master plan. How could she do this to Liam? She had never cheated on anyone and in fairness she didn't now but it sure felt like it, and that to Molly was enough.

Before she had time to wallow in her quilt any longer she noticed Liam looking her in away he knew she wasn't paying attention to him.

"Sorry. Just a busy day at work."

"You gotta learn to relax Molls. Leave to work behind when those the hospital doors close behind you."

"I know." She sighed which made Liam chuckle warmly.

"Honestly I never knew I'd meet such a woman who was as kind and thoughtful as you." He whispered and reached to put his hand over Molly's on the table.

There was no other option, she had to do it because Liam was too nice to be played like this. Molly knew deep inside she should've done this sooner, even before she had started going to Sherlock for nights because Molly knew that she shouldn't be dating a man she didn't feel as strongly as she did for the one and only consulting detective.

That was why she had broken up with Tom too and after that she'd swore to herself that she wouldn't start a serious relationship with anyone until the someone she met would over shadow her feelings for Sherlock because that was the only way the relationship would work and she would be happy for the rest of her life. When she'd met Liam she'd told herself she did care for him enough but obviously that hadn't turned out to be the case and now she couldn't continue dating him only because he was her back up plan if Sherlock wouldn't turn out to be interested in her.

As Molly told this all to Liam, she saw his face turn from confused to sad. After her words had settled in and being the good guy as he was, Liam thanked her for being so honest and wishing her luck, he asked her to text a date when he could come over to pick up his stuff from her place and him to bring Molly her stuff from his flat and then he left his share of the bill on the table and walked out of the restaurant leaving Molly sit at the table alone.

Molly felt like she was about to cry. She hated nothing more than to cause sadness to other people. She asked the waiter to bring the bill, paid it and left. She could practically feel the women who had witnessed and seen their conversation, throwing daggers at her with their eyes when she walked out. She figured they had no idea why a woman like her would dump a man who looked like him.

The only thing she was glad for right now, was that she wouldn't have to be alone that night and she tried to make herself feel at least a bit better by telling herself she had done the right thing. At least now she could focus on her plan without the ever growing guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She arrived home at six and had time to do small house chores before she left to Sherlock's at seven thirty. When she was walking from the Baker Street tube station and was less than a block away from 221B when she got a text from Sherlock telling her not to bother with knocking since the front door was open.

She came to the dark blue door and could see his shadow on the second floor window. She stepped in locking the door after herself. Likethe two previous nights, Sherlock turned from the window towards her when he heard her walking in to the living room.

"Molly." Was his greeting and before she could get to the end of her answer he interrupted her.

"I see you and that doctor of yours have called it quits, as you might phrase it."

Molly's smile vanished and she took a deep breath. How could she have thought he wouldn't notice it.

"Yes. Just a few hours ago actually."

"Oh." Was all he said and a silence settled between them for a moment.

"Then do you not want to continue…" / "I understand if you don't want to sleep…"

Realizing they'd spoken at the same time they both shut up until Molly couldn't help but keep her mouth shut any longer, fearing he didn't want to sleep with her anymore.

"I know that I haven't a reason anymore to come over and sleep with you since I have my bed to myself now but I know that you still have the problem and I thought we could still continue this, after all it's much more efficient for me than to try catch sleep on my own and I…"

Before she could continue to babble Sherlock interrupted her.

"Yes. I do want to continue. It's proven very successful for my work already and I have no reason to stop but I thought you might object to it since you have stopped seeing that doctor of yours."

"Good." Molly sighed "I would like that too."

"Do you want to talk about what happened with him?" He asked wearily, not really wanting to hear about the more intimate details of her relationship. Her mention of meat dagger and her having lots of sex had proved him of that.

Sherlock's self-assured expression faltered after taking in her forlorn stance in mention of her ex.

"That's what friends do isn't it? Talk about their…ugh.. feelings." His voice sounded uncertain as his mind was in front of the subject at hand.

Molly couldn't help but giggle. "You got that from the Sex and the City marathon didn't you? How on_earth _did Mary got you into that?"

"She's a former assassin Molly. She knows what buttons to push to get people to do what she wants."

"Yeah but what was the reason to make you watch it with her?" She pressed on, glad to have something else to think about than him finding out the reason for her and Liam's break up.

"I may have done something unadvisable to her which she in result repaid me."

"Would that instance be you drugging her last Christmas?" She remarked teasingly

"Maybe, but don't try to change the subject." Sherlock said and focused on watching her again with that piercing gaze of his. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to me?"

Molly had no desire to tell him about her break up since he was the main reason for it. "No thank you. It's really sweet of you to care because I know how boring you find that type of talk."

"Alright then. But know that if I find out he mistreated you, he will hear from me."

Molly laughed but turned stern when she saw from his expression that he was not joking.

"Sherlock you don't have to…"

"Of course I do. Can't have some idiots bringing down my pathologist." He smirked

Fifteen minutes later the pair was in the kitchen and deep in work with their experiment. Having grown used to each other's way of work, they glided around the small space, their hands on the table and their bodies around it never colliding awkwardly as they seemed to anticipate each other's movements in advance. It looked almost like a performance of some sort, just like an old married couple at breakfast table, but instead of food there were body parts.

"Tongs" Sherlock said, not lifting his eyes from the test tubes in front of him and taking the object from Molly who wasn't really paying attention as she was busy with her own part of the work.

"It's working!" Came a loud exclamation from Molly who was hovering above the stove with a pot on it.

Her excitement made him look up to her and for awhile he was transfixed by the sight of her in his ratty pajamas and in her old lab coat, she stored in 221B for evenings like this. It did something to him, to see her in his clothing but before he could delve into the thought any further, Mrs. Hudson's cheerful voice and the test tubes rattling in the bain-marie were together powerful enough to get his attention return to the job in hand.

"I brought you some evening snack dears. You are staying the night here then Molly, aren't you? Don't even try to go back to your flat because I will set my spare room for you if Sherlock won't let you stay." The older woman said as she laid the tray to the living room's coffee table.

"She is staying with me Mrs. Hudson and now do stop your babbling and go away." He sneered impatiently and waved his hand without looking away from the tubes.

"Sherlock!" Molly scolded

He growled but after seeing the pathologist stern face, he grumbled.

"Please."

Molly huffed. "He means thank you and also sorry."

"Yes and now could you kindly go? We are currently in the most important and hectic part of our work and you are only disturbing our concentration."

Mrs. Hudson, being very well used to his tenants bad temper, snickered as she left the flat. She was very grateful for the younger woman's growing presence in her house since it was also very entertaining seeing Sherlock trying to please the pathologist. Mrs. Hudson knew he didn't realize his behavior and that made it all the more fun.

She was also glad that her walls weren't destroyed anymore nearly as often they had before Molly had started showing up and if Sherlock weren't gay Mrs. Hudson thought, she would make an excellent partner for the moody man. They just looked so calm when they were in the middle of their work, absorbed in the world of their own.

The experiment finished with Sherlock dictating and Molly writing the results and observations with his lap top and they both in turn showered, washing off the splattered bodily fluids from their bodies. She used the shower first and could hear Sherlock leaving the flat for some reason. She shrugged and return to scrub her face.

After she changed to her own pajamas, he appeared and went into the bathroom. Molly, who was now warming a small pot of milk in the stove, too had the sudden urge to leave the room and go downstairs, when she pictured him under the water. His hair wet and sleeked back, the water flowing down from his toned chest down the rest of his body and reaching all the way down to his ass and impressive …

"Shit!" She cursed as a burning smell filled the air. She dumped the milk to the sink and started over, this time not letting her thoughts loose.

Five minutes later they finally sat down at the cleaned kitchen table and enjoyed the sandwiches Mrs. Hudson had brought with the warm milk she'd prepared.

"So Daily Mail again or would you prefer something else?"

"What ever you choose is fine for me." She answered when they both had settled into his bed.

After an appropriate time had passed Molly, turned away from Sherlock so he couldn't see her face, pretended to be asleep by breathing deep and even breaths to fool him. She heard her plan working when Sherlock stopped reading and turned off the bed side table lamp. Only after a minute he was sleep.

Molly turned to look at him and waited patiently until his eyes started moving under his close eyelids, signaling that he had reached REM stage of sleep. She took a deep breath gathering her courage. Well this was it. No reason to delay any longer, she thought and edged closer to the sleeping man in effort to execute the stage one of her plan.

_**To be continued..**_

**A/N:** Not a lot of smut in this chapter but it's coming. Had to cut the chapter here or else it would've come too long.

Huge thank you for all the reviews, follows and favorites!


	4. Somnliloquy

"_Sleep talking, also know in the sleep field as "__somnliloquy__", is a sleep disorder that involves unconscious talking during sleep. It varies in its content and presentation, ranging from mumbling, gibberish and nonsensical words to full, complicated, coherent narratives"_, a psychologist at Bart's had told Molly a few days ago when she'd approached him with questions about the subject.

_It tends to occur more in children and males, although among adults, __sleep talking is far less prevalent__, with just about five percent of grownups gabbing in their sleep. It can be genetic but in other cases the cause of it can be from sleep deprivation, alcohol and drugs, fever, stress, anxiety and depression."_

Male, stress, sleep deprivation, drugs_ … _Sherlock certainly seemed to fit the bill. Molly had sighed without realizing that she herself suffered from it as well. For her it was due to the stress, which was caused by her job and worrying over Sherlock.

"_The content of sleep talking can be completely random but may also be related to past or present daytime experiences. It can be spontaneous, but may also be induced by someone else who talks with them while asleep."_

She'd smiled a tad too menacingly at that bit, earning a suspicious look from the man, as she was already thinking of ways to do exactly that.

"_But no matter how clearly the words are spoken, experts agree that sleep talk does not come from the conscious mind"_, Doctor Harrow warned her, somehow sensing at least part of the real reason she was asking all this.

This didn't faze Molly though, since it was the subconscious part of his brain that she wanted to provoke, hence doing this in his sleep rather than awake. If Sherlock had feelings for her and was conscious of them, his behavior towards her would've drastically changed and this would've in turn alarmed Molly. That hadn't happened so far and based on his touchy behavior during their previous sleepovers made her think that there was something in his subconscious that drew him to her and make her suspect that she wasn't completely foolish for thinking he might fancy her.

Now laying in his bed Molly sifted towards him carefully and stopped just a few centimeters away. Her elbow propped against the mattress, head leaning down to the palm of her hand, Molly gazed at the sleeping man next to her as the moon shine through the window making his sharp facial features even more prominent.

His face seemed to hold little of traces of the man she usually dealt with during the day. There were no pretentiousness, arrogance nor over bearing cleverness visible, but most noticeable was the absence of the mask which kept others from seeing his true emotions and thus the good man he really was inside. Molly could see the real him though and so could a few other people who were the closest to him and for that she was grateful.

But although the detective looked so innocent and serene while sleeping, Molly could still detect tiny traces of the hardships he had gone through, reflecting on his appearance.

Tearing her eyes away from the man she instead looked outside the window where a small piece of night sky was left visible above the tall buildings.

Was this part of the reason he disliked sleeping so much? She thought suddenly. Maybe he didn't like the vulnerability of the situation, that someone could so easily witness him like this without him knowing about it. Molly felt warmness spread through her at the thought that he felt comfortable enough to let her so close.

A light groan from Sherlock made her tear her eyes from the window and turn her attention to him. He was lying on his back now and fast asleep.

She held her breath, ears listening closely for any unusual voices and she almost jumped when a soft mumble passed his lips. She could barely separate any words but she thought it was better than nothing to start her plan with.

Molly was glad Sherlock had started this early and not later in the night since she was certain she couldn't have stayed up the entire night based on how tired she'd been that day. Still despite of it she wasn't feeling tired at all at the moment, since the adrenaline was starting to kick in her veins, preparing her to the task at hand.

The pathologist lifted her right arm, which had so far been resting on her hip, and placed it on his cheek. She was tiny bit afraid that it would've startled him out of his slumber and he, thinking she was some sort of attacker, would've pounced on her, but luckily it had the opposite effect and the mumbling got only louder.

Without hoping to think it was because of he unconsciously knew it was someone he trusted, she kept stroking his cheekbones and then moving her hand to his forehead where she continued her actions. The thing she had to remember was to keep quiet because she feared that hearing her voice, he would start dreaming about her and talking to her only because of that.

"Mmhhh…"

"I'm fine I'm completely fine. Stop harassing me Mrs. Hudson."

Doctor Harrow had told her that the voice of the people, who usually spoke in their sleep, wasn't like their normal voice and it surely wasn't. His tone was flat and monotone, avoid of any emotions. Still she was taken back how clearly he formed his words and sentences.

_I wonder what he's dreaming about. _She wondered, a small smile on her lips

"It's a five. Maybe a six."

Her smile disappeared and was replaced with pursed lips and a raised left. _What a shocker. _She thought with a small silent laugh

Molly listened his babbling a little further, interested how his dreams changed and morphed but eventually grew impatient, wanting to know what kinds of scenarios he dreamed of her being.

Trying to think a way to nudge him to the right direction she was caught off guard when his body jerked slightly on the bed. Her head snapped at his sudden movement to look at him and she saw his face was twitching, the earlier calmness now completely erased and low growls were emitted from his throat.

Nightmares, she deduced.

"Molly."

Was something happening to her in his dreams? Did he often dream of her like this?

"Mmmhh…Molly"

An instinct made her lay her hand onto his shoulder and rub it gently and it seemed to have an effect, but not one she anticipated.

Until now he'd been sleeping on his back but now Sherlock turned to his right side facing her and before Molly could realize what was happening, his left arm had snaked around her back, coming to rest against her left side. Then with force he pulled her down against the mattress, the sudden movement catching her off guard.

She had no time to get away because Sherlock, although unconsciously, had used her hesitation for his own good and pulled her closer him. They were now laying face to face and only an inch of space between their noses.

He sighed, in a way that to her sounded very much like contentment and leaned his forehead against hers so that everything her eyes could see was him.

"Safe."

Despite her heart beating faster at his words and their meaning, Molly couldn't fight back a small giggle.

So this was how they had ended up snuggling together the two previous nights.

And to think she'd been certain it was she who had insinuated their awkward positions and all this time equally guilty had been the man, who wouldn't even hug his best mate when he himself was sentenced into exile and not ever seeing him again.

The clock was now ticking closer to midnight and it was time to get a move on so she could actually catch some sleep tonight as well.

So she decided to use the already close proximity to her advantage and move on to slightly more _heavy_ _petting_ in effort to get more reactions out of him and to find out in what light did he exactly saw her.

Without taking her eyes away from his face in fear of missing even the tiniest of emotion, Molly placed her right hand above his t-shirt, on his chest. She slid it down the lean but strong muscles, a soft sigh escaping from their owner as she stroked him but this time the earlier friendly comfort replaced with sensuality.

Gradually, she glided it down his body until she reached her target.

Now this was exactly the reason she'd chickened out last time and had let herself fall asleep because this kind of boldness wasn't in her nature and really, it wasn't okay to touch someone without their consent. She knew that very well, but after "suffering" two nights of his hands groping her and her private parts, Molly wasn't feeling very charitable towards the detective and so she let herself to proceed.

She had to be very careful so she wouldn't cause him too much pleasure and wake him up because of that. Molly had nothing to worry though as he sighed lightly but did not stir when she pulled from the elastic waistband of his pajama bottoms and slipped her hand inside while still staying above the silk fabric that was his boxers.

With light and long strokes she moved her hand above his covered member and to her delight saw him smirking. As she continued, satisfied that this was proving to be easier than she had originally thought, she could soon feel his cock hardening and rising so that it was now touching her thigh.

Molly almost pulled her hand away in shame but forced herself to hold it in place since she simply couldn't stop now when she was this far. Then suddenly, a strong hand, that belonged to the man she was currently feeling up, left her back and slid further down to her backside.

Okay she might not have think this properly through, she thought nervously as his hand settled firmly on her bum, underneath her short night gown but luckily over her knickers.

Molly cursed her stupidity. Based on his previous reactions to her closeness she _really_ should've seen this coming.

But before she could think of how to proceed or back away, another hand sneaked under her body making its way to her other buttock and his grip on her ass tightened even further. Lost in the feeling of it she kept on stroking him but almost yelped out loud as he got his revenge when he too started fondling her but with the occasional squeezes added to the mix.

_Dammit_. She had just wanted to hear him speak more, not to be his inflatable sex doll that he could feel up.

Despite her annoyance she had to lick her dry lips as his cock was almost full on hard now, pressing against her, her sex starting to moisten in want.

God she couldn't wait to have him cornered with her results not only because she wanted his affection but also because she couldn't wait to get laid. It had been some time since she'd gotten any real action and even then it hadn't been thoroughly satisfying.

_Come on!_ She thought impatiently as he still held her close by her ass. He was such a blabber mouth when he was awake so why couldn't be one in his sleep too.

Infuriatingly Sherlock's mouth remained still although the same couldn't be said from his hands. With a sharp push and pull Sherlock thrust his groan area against hers and Molly hastily pulled her hand away from his prick so it wouldn't be left stuck in between. His forehead left hers as he lowered it downwards to nuzzle the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder.

Unwilling to wait any longer Molly, deciding to work with the present resources she had, took action and draped both of her hands behind his neck, lifted her left leg over his hips and gradually rolled her hips, rubbing her center against his.

"Uggnh." His deep voice groaned as he released hot wave of breath to her skin which erupted in goose bumps at the feeling of it.

Weaving her fingers through his curls she kept her hips moving, alternating between rolling them and pushing them gently against his manhood which she now felt twitching from time to time against her abdomen. She was sure that any minute now he would wake up but she'd be damned if she didn't pull her plan through.

Her mouth opened to draw a deep breath when Sherlock opened his own to kiss her neck with sloppy and wet lips. He then began trailing up and down her neck and shoulder, kissing and sucking lightly.

"Oh Molly."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words and then started beating in her chest like a drum.

_Did he just…_

"Mmm… Molly. My Molly. God you feel so good."

_He did! Oh my god. So it is me. It's not just my convenient body but he dreams of me being with him when … _

The happiness soon turned into puzzlement though. How on earth was she going to make him stop before he would shag her into the mattress in his sleep?

"Bum's so soft. You 'ave lovely arse Doctrr Hooprr." He moaned, his speech more muddled now than earlier and definitely missing his usual elegant parlance.

Molly pulled her hands away from his hair, the consulting detective releasing an unsatisfied grunt at that, and placed them instead over his at the back of her body. She started prying them off of her bum and for awhile it looked like she would succeed but of course Sherlock wasn't going to make things any easier for her.

Desperately needing more contact he pushed his body forwards and rolled himself over so that Molly was now trapped under him against the bed.

_Oh hell_.

Despite the awkward position she marveled at how delightfully heavy he was as his body covered hers entirely, apart from her face. Good thing she didn't suffer from claustrophobia.

"Mmmhh..Molly…I do like it when you wear nothing under that lab coat of yourrss..mmm.."

_Exactly what on earth is he dreaming about? And how can he still be asleep?! _

Her face in deep shad of crimson, she thought frantically at what to do meanwhile Sherlock, for a better position to lean his erection to her warm sex, sifted slightly and nudged her legs apart so his body was now between them.

Molly meanwhile could focus on nothing else than the sensation of his body weighing her down.

"So small. My small pathhologsttt…"

Sherlock bowed his back as his lips left her neck. Without taking them off her skin he trailed down to her shoulder and collar bone, making its way to her two, nightgown covered and pert…

_Okay that's enough._

Before he could reach her lips any further she crooked her right leg and propped it against the mattress. Pushing against it with her foot she managed to roll them both over so now that he was under her. Due to their earlier position, her head ended up over his and his head was left under her chest.

She gasped as she realized that the force in which she had pulled them to turn had been so strong that she hadn't had time to brace her hands against the mattress so that her breasts wouldn't be pushed against his face.

Molly's hands flew to her sides as she raised her upper body from his face and somehow was brave enough to move her body so that their heads would be leveled. The sight that greeted her, made Molly's blood run cold.

A pair of blue and greenish eyes drilled into her large brown ones.

Despite the growing panic inside of her she couldn't miss the pupils which were blown wide and based on his still erect cock and shallow breath Molly knew it wasn't only because of him trying to see in the dimness of the room.

"Doctor Hooper." Came the crisp voice that held little traces of his earlier slumber. "Care to explain why I woke up to find you on top of me and your breasts against my face?"

_"Somnliloquy__ is not physically harmful, but can be very embarrassing for the patient or for people sleeping in the same space." _Doctor Harrow finished his lecture.

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**A/N: Many thank you's to all who reviewed, favorited and continue reading this! So sorry that it took this long to update. For some reason this chapter turned out really hard for me to write and edit. **

**If you have any suggestions, prompts or headcanons they're happily accepted! **

**PS. I'm on tumblr under the same name (Silencebeyondthestars) so feel free to come and play! **


	5. The Midnight Confrontation

**A/N: As ever thank you for the comments and favorites! They really mean so much to me! **

**Btw. If you saw my one sentence preview on tumblr this weekend then you should know that due to my last minute editing that bit got moved to the next chapter.**

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_"Doctor Hooper." Came the crisp voice that held little traces of his earlier slumber. "Care to explain why I woke up to find you on top of me and your breasts against my face?"_

Molly stared, her eyes as wide as saucers, down at the man sprawled under her and whose hips she was currently straddling.

_Oh crap oh crap! How am I going to explain __**this**__?!_

"Well? I'm listening."

Molly had never before in her life wished to have the ability to freeze time like she did at the moment. Desperately she tried to think a passable explanation because she was notin a million years going to reveal her real reason. In fact Molly would rather run the whole of Oxford Street from end to end naked than come clean to him because she needed more time to gather her thoughts and formulate her plan further.

Suddenly a light bulb switched on in her head.

"What do you mean what I'm doing!? What are _you_ doing?! She hissed, hoping that her brief bafflement earlier had been lost on him.

"What?!"

To her glee she saw him swallowing and a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. Molly raised an eyebrow at him and Sherlock just stared at her befuddled.

What ever either of them was about to say next got interrupted as he suddenly came aware that she had just unconsciously sat down on top of his abdomen and both of her hands coming to lean against his chest.

"Ugh Molly.. Could you perhaps lift your.."

"Oh! Sorry."

Molly lifted herself hurriedly off him and sat down onto her own side of the bed as Sherlock, freed from her weight, moved into a sitting position. She awkwardly turned her head away from him and stared at her lap as he not so indifferently pulled the blanket over his own, hiding the massive erection he still sported.

The action made her aware of her own state, her nipples erect and straining against her light pink and very low v -neck string top.

She hadn't wanted to wear such a revealing garment tonight but Betsy had practically wrestled with her in effort to put it into her overnight bag. According to her if Molly wanted to "seduce" Sherlock she needed to wear something revealing.

Hastily she grasped her end of their shared blanket and drew it up to her chin.

"Now what do you mean what I was doing? It was after all you who was on top of me." He returned his ice cold stare back at her and Molly could feel a shiver running down her spine. Begrudgingly she turned to stare back at the impossible man.

"Only after you grabbed me and pulled me on top of you."

It was the truth after all and it didn't matter that it was because she had teased him first, but he definitely didn't need to know that.

"Oh." Was all he said and based on his more than guilty look he didn't seem to think that she was lying. "I didn't realize I was doing that again."

"So you know that this has happened the two previous nights too, don't you?" Molly asked slightly baffled since she hadn't realized he was aware of the happenings of their two previous sleepovers.

"Yes. And I gather you knew about it too."

"Yeah you could say that. Pretty hard to sleep through it actually. You happen to be very keen when you're in the right state."

Sherlock had the decency to look embarrassed but of course he had to ruin Molly's satisfaction when he opened his mouth again.

"Don't play smug at me Molly. You're not completely innocent yourself."

"What do you mean?"

_Did he know what she'd been doing?_ Molly thought, panic starting to rise again.

"You keep..ugh… _wiggling_ in you sleep."

"Uhm..okay…"

Sherlock huffed as it was coming apparent she didn't have a glue what he was talking about.

"When you sleep you keep pressing into me and the unfortunate situation of your bottom happens to rub my…"

"Oh! Sorry I didn't realize." She gasped, both of her hands shooting up to her mouth.

"You of course realize it's all unconscious. It's merely the closeness your feminine body that makes me subconsciously dream about it. It's nothing personal, just a bodily reaction."

"Of course" Molly nodded but wasn't at all too convinced about that anymore. This wasn't the right time to bring it up though so she pretended to comply with him.

An awkward silence settled on between them. Molly had been certain that waking up in the middle of the night and finding your friend dry humping you was uncomfortable but apparently confronting it with your said friend about it was multiple times worse.

"It does seem like we're both to blame." Molly finally said with a small laugh

"Well you more than me. If you wouldn't hog the covers to yourself every night I wouldn't be so cold to seek warmth in your body."

"I don't do that!"

"How would you know? You're asleep." Sherlock snapped, his eyes narrowed.

"Well you talk in your sleep."

"What does that have to do with anything? And speaking of which so do you."

"No I don't!"

"Do I have to remind you again that you were unconscious and you wouldn't remember a thing even if you'd start jumping up and down on the bed."

"None of my ex-boyfriends haven't said anything about it."

"Probably because you never could actually sleep when you slept together or you did and the only thing you dreamed and talked about was me and they felt too offended and awkward to mention it to you."

Molly stared at the smug face of the consulting detective and felt her blood boiling.

"If you have the audacity to you think that you are the only thing I dream about, you sodding ass, then you are very much mistaken!"

"Oh Sherlock", he started to mimic her, his tone all squeaky and highly offending, "Get off my lab at this instant or I'll throw this beaker of bile at you."

"What about you then, huh? Molly, oh my Molly (she did her best to imitate his breathy voice from earlier) Ooh I love it when you talk dirty. Mmmhhhh. Love your arse Doctor Hooper."

Sherlock became very still and his face was blank. After a few moments he seemed to switch on again. Completely ignoring her bringing up the contents of his dreams, he continued doing his best to hold his voice steady.

"Well if you are that uncomfortable sleeping with me then I guess we should deem this arrangement unsuccessful and end it right at this instant. Although your needy whimpering every time I happen to even brush you does suggest otherwise."

"For your information I don't dream about you like you do of me! It's just that the only reason I react to you like that is because it makes me dream of this one actor who you share roughly the same body type with."

Before she could even finish the sentence she already knew how terrible liar she really was. Looking at him she he was thinking the same.

"Is that the best you can do?"

"It's true!"

"No it isn't."

"You hum in your sleep and it's so off key that I can't even recognize the pieces!"

Molly's cheeks were flaming red, half from embarrassment and half from anger. She knew insulting his musical talents was a low blow but it didn't seem work anyway, based on the look he gave her Sherlock knew she was lying again.

"You wouldn't recognize them even if the composers themselves would hum them for you. The drivel you always listen to has rotten your brain."

"When you snore I know you've smoked during the day."

"You fart during the night if you've recently eaten beans."

Molly stared at him her mouth open and Sherlock could see her blush spreading from her cheeks all the way down to her chest. Honestly he didn't understand why people were so embarrassed of their bodies natural reactions.

"When you're having a particularly arousing dream you drool and it wets my hair when you hug me from behind!" She retorted after collecting herself.

"I assure the smell your flatulence is a much worse annoyance!"

The last two sentences were delivered with loud yells but when Molly prepared to make even more snide and louder reply a small movement in his lap caught her attention.

"Sherlock! Are you getting a hard on over our fighting?!" She shouted, her eyes throwing daggers at him.

His prick, which had until now been slowly softening, was now a clearly visible lump under the comforter.

She has never been this mad at him. Having an erection should be the last thing he should be able to do when she was yelling at him. How dare he think so lightly of her anger?

"It's the adrenaline." He replied shortly, letting out a small uncomfortable cough, and his hand reverted behind his back where he brought his pillow onto his lap for extra coverage. Sherlock lifted his hands away but had to bring them back instantly and keep them on top of it or else the pillow started rocking back and forth, it's edges out of touch with his legs.

"So you get an erection every time you work on a case and then ran through the city catching criminals while sporting it?" She asked, sarcasm heavy in her voice.

"Of course not. Well sometimes if it's a particularly good one but even then only after finishing it and I'm alone in my room…"

He stopped when he saw her looking at him funny and for awhile they merely stared at each other. Molly waiting for him to say sorry and he just waiting for her to speak again.

"Yeah you're right. This was a very bad idea." She huffs as it comes apparent he isn't going to apologize or say anything else about it, and swings her legs over the edge of the bed taking their comforter with her as she wraps it around her to fight off the cold. Her modesty was a lost cause by now so she didn't do it because of it.

As she tugged the cloth Sherlock tried his best to catch it back but she pulled it to quickly so it escaped his fingers. Hurriedly he then placed the fallen pillow back to cover his lap.

"Where are you're going?"

"To the bedroom upstairs. At least there I won't have to fear of being groped in my sleep." She replied knowing full well how hypocritical she sounded.

"Good. Then at least I can sleep peacefully without hearing your inane babbling!"

Before Molly could disappear through the bedroom door though Sherlock lunged towards her and managed to catch the end of the blanket to his grasp. He tugged it abruptly towards himself, almost sending Molly to tumble down with the force of it, and pulled it entirely over himself.

"This is mine. There's one in John's former bed you can use."

"Fine." She sheathed, now covered only in her flimsy top and flannel shorts, but turned abruptly around again as she remembered her clothes on the chair beside the dresser. Molly could feel his eyes on her as she walked over to the other side of the room and gathered her belongings. Tightly holding the pile against her chest she practically run out and slammed the bedroom door close after her.

Sherlock put the pillow back to it's proper place and set the comforter properly over himself. As he lay down he heard Molly's footsteps on the stairs echoing.

Apparently he had cocked things up again, as his best friend and blogger would say.

Contrary to Molly's belief he hadn't really meant to hurt her feelings. He had only meant to rile her up to the point that she would spill the _real_ reason for her being on top of him when he woke up, but had then gotten too invested in the quarreling and he'd gone too far.

So yes. Sherlock knew all about Molly's grand scheme to find out if he carried any romantic feelings for her and so tonight he had used his brilliant acting skills to convey her that he was sleeping and dreaming of her just like he had actually done on their previous sleepovers, in effort to confront her about her actions.

He was now on a mission to put an end to her's.

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**So what do you think Molly's going do when Sherlock throws a spanner into her work? :D **


	6. A Sudden Realization

**A/N: Again huge thank you's to you who review and favorite this story! It genuinely keeps me writing more and faster.**

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Sherlock hadn't known about her plan from the start, instead first stumbling on it when he'd accidentally happened to overhear a part of her conversation with Doctor Harlow and the puzzle peaces had clicked on place when he'd checked her browser history on her mobile and on her laptop afterwards.

But unlike Molly's hands on approach to her plan, the erection he had gotten from her yelling later had been a complete surprise to him.

Since his teen years Sherlock has known very well what sexual attraction was, and for some time now he had also known that it was what he felt towards Molly, since it was pretty impossible to not notice based on his numerous erections he kept having when he was with her. But now it turned out that the same sexual attraction had helped him realize something utterly terrible.

It was something he had tried to understand for some time now actually and was part of the reason he'd continued sleeping with her. That had been a good way for him to gather more data and now he'd finally cracked his case. For what seemed like hours Sherlock tried battling against the idea but there was no other option than to surrender because the evidence, he looked down at his crotch, were simply too real to ignore.

He had gotten aroused over Molly's yelling. Not over her body, but because of her mind.

Since it turns out you can't really fake a male erection it really must be true then. And he certainly didn't get erections when John, Lestrade or Mrs. Hudson yelled and scolded him.

His face lit up as a new thought came to him.

Wait. Hadn't he experienced something like this with Irene Adler too? Hadn't he been attracted to her because of her cleverness? If that was true then there was nothing to worry about now since he had managed to so easily crush those feelings towards the dominatrix. How hard it would be to do the same with the meek pathologist.

_But this is Molly. _A voice inside him pointed out immediately, crushing his previous excitement. _She is nowhere near comparable with The Woman, who despite the capital letters always turns out to be boring and predictable._

This is Molly who he trusts with his life and who would never betray him. Molly who helps him with everything he needs, Molly who brings him coffee even before he asks it, Molly who is always interested in his cases..

And she's Molly who… loves him, god only knows why.

Sherlock doesn't understand love and never has since to him it's the most irrational thing in the existence. But what makes everything more ironic is that he owns the feeling himself as it is John Watson who made Sherlock feel it in it's purest of forms for the first time ever towards another human.

As an experiment he tries to compare what he feels for John with Molly in his place.

_Odd. It doesn't quite fit,_ he finds. But not because he doesn't feel as much towards her as he does for John because he does. No, it's more in the way that what he feels for Molly is something slightly more and different, not only sexual attraction, but something he can't quite name.

He lets himself explore it longer and that's how he finally comprehends how deep the feelings are and he can to his horror now give a name to it.

It's romantic love.

It has never happened to him before and that is how he knows why it has taken so long for him to become aware of it. Sherlock gives a short bitter laugh. The common people would find it obvious and now he himself is the idiot.

But it doesn't matter he thinks, and discards the notion immediately without any further thought. Sherlock knows he's incapable of giving her what she wants from him in the long run and to be honest he is almost positive it isn't what he really wants for his life anyway. Sure, he has friends who he cares about but loving someone in away he would have to share all of the life's deepest intimacies with is utterly a different matter.

He can barely even imagine himself in such situation.

It's an unfortunate situation but Sherlock is positive it won't have an influence to his everyday life whatsoever. She will continue to be his friend and this won't change a thing between them. He simply will not let it happen.

Sherlock lets out another short laugh. Mycroft would be appalled if he knew how quickly and easily his baby brother had just confessed himself to having this much sentiment towards another person. But that was Molly Hooper for you, she simply was so easy to lo…

_Shut it. No use to go down that road._

Sherlock was relieved that Molly had been angry at him because of his aroused state, thinking falsely that if he was able to be aroused by her anger he didn't take her seriously, rather than realizing it was only because he had hots for her mind.

Unfortunately the clever detective didn't realize that when he'd faked himself dreaming of her, he had called her name multiple times and had that way unknowingly given himself away. That's why Molly was well aware of his mind-set at the moment. Well at least she knew he was attracted to her mind, not so much about how deep his feelings reached in reality.

Unaware of this Sherlock thought about his evening's brilliant approach to confronting Molly and her intensions.

When the two had gotten in bed that night he'd known she was up to something based on her jittery behavior during the evening they'd spent together. Instead of confronting her straight on, he'd pretended to believe Molly was sleeping and then in turn had acted himself to be asleep next. First he'd felt Molly getting up to sit on the bed while watching him for awhile, and then he'd started mumbling, letting her think he was beginning to talk and dream in his sleep so he could see what she was planning on doing. When after awhile she still had done nothing Sherlock decided to up the ante and pretend to have a bad dream just to use it as an excuse to touch her and pull her close. Still to see how she'd react of course.

He'd nearly jumped out of his skin when Molly had started touching him all seductively, clearly underestimating how bold she could be. It was understandable though, considering her sweet and shy nature.

After internally collecting himself Sherlock had begun responding with same force, talking dirty and kissing Molly's neck to make her regret her scheme to seduce him. To be honest he had found the acting a little too easy do. He really didn't even need to think what to do because her touches made him react without thinking. And finally when Sherlock wasn't certain anymore he could take it all for much longer she surprised him by rolling them both over as he found the perfect excuse to open his eyes and confront her.

But of course Molly then caught him completely off guard (and from the look on her face herself too) by coming up with an acceptable excuse to get the blame off of her back.

And then she rolled it back on _him_ for god's sake!

From this point onward his reactions had really been genuine since he hadn't anticipated it in the slightest. Foolishly Sherlock had thought that in panic she'd admit it all to him and then in his turn he would reveal to Molly he'd already known all about it and that she was wrong in her assumptions. Doing that he had intended Molly to get embarrassed by it so she'd drop her plan for good. It was harsh but it needed to be done.

So now that his own plan had figuratively hit the rocks Sherlock needed to come up with another.

_But maybe it was actually a good thing I failed. _He mused when a new thought came to him.

_I could of course come clean with it to Molly and tell her to stop but that could likely mean that she'd stop sleeping with me and that wouldn't do at all. My work needs the sleep and the only thing that gives it to me is Molly. Not to mention that she also needs it and when Molly is well rested his job will not be endangered by a pathologist who is too sleep deprivated to perform her work properly. _

So his previous mission about stopping Molly's plan was aborted since from now on he needed to keep up the façade that he didn't have feelings for her but at the same time he had to keep her hopes up just enough so that she wouldn't stop coming over at nights.

He understood that it was unfair to do this up but he reasoned himself that Molly would eventually give up, realize he didn't harbor any feelings for her and she would then stop their arrangement herself. He certainly didn't have any reason to feel guilty right now.

To be honest if it were down to him Sherlock would continue their sleepovers until the day either of them eventually died but he knew he couldn't play Molly along for so long. When they'd stop she'd find another way to battle her sleeping problem , move on from him, continue dating men and eventually marry one of them.

He ignored the sudden sharp pain in his chest at that thought.

Molly would finally be happy and Sherlock would force himself to learn how to not ruin her relationships because the only thing he wanted was for her to be happy. It surprised him that this wish even surpassed his own selfish needs for her to be in his every beck and call.

_But I suppose that's what lo.._

Again he cut himself off again before the word could be thought.

Then he remembered that he was currently alone in his bed and the reason for it. Sherlock was sure though that Molly would forgive him eventually and that she really hadn't meant what she'd said about stopping to come over.

Still overly pleased with his genius new plan he closed his eyes in effort to finally get some sleep. He'd talk to her in the morning when she'd be less upset.

After five more minutes of lying still he huffed and opened his eyes again. Why had he even bothered to try to sleep again? It was almost impossible now that he'd been doing it with her past these weeks.

Sherlock really didn't want to think what he would do when Molly stopped coming over.

After a few minutes more the agitated consulting detective threw himself up from the bed and with a force threw the bedroom door open, marching through the hallway and his living room he came to the beginning of the staircase. He hesitated only for a second before continuing to jump the stairs up, two at a time until he reached the spare bedroom's door.

Molly lay on the lumpy bed in the slightly chilly room and almost regretting her choice to abandon the perfectly warm room downstairs. She turned around for the umpteenth time and tried to lull herself to sleep but it was difficult without her human radiator. The unfamiliar room wasn't helping either.

Despite her tiredness she was sure she had never been this happy though. She had finally found out that he did in fact have feelings for her. Him calling her name in his sleep as he dreamed of ravishing her naked body under her lab coat had been the proof she'd needed.

But now she was facing a new problem, how to make him realize it too. She didn't know the answer to that question yet but after she'd thought of it and done it, the Big Challenge came, which worried her even more. How to convince him to have a proper romantic relationship with her?

Her heart missed a beat when the sounds of the footsteps coming closer to her on the stairs reached her through the door. Then she heard a gentle knock and a gentle baritone voice calling her.

"Molly, are you asleep?"

"No."

"Can I please come in?"

"Okay." What choice did she have anyway?

The door creaked open and in the dimness of the room she could see his tall and dark form coming closer to the bed.

"I'm sorry about earlier. You know how I always have to have the last word and I apologize if I hurt you. I want you to know that I do take you very seriously and would never diminish you..."

"I know Sherlock. It's alright." She sighed. Molly was too tired to be mad at him at this time of the night so she gave in.

"Can we just go to sleep again? Uhm…Together I mean."

"Of course."

She was about to get up but didn't have anytime before Sherlock had already sat down to the other side of the double bed and under the blanket.

"I thought we'd go back to your room."

"No time. I need to get to sleep now."

She was about to protest but even the thought of the short walk back downstairs in the chilly flat and just wearing her nighty was enough for her to shut her mouth.

"Oh okay then. Good night."

"Good night Molly."

"Uhm.. What are you doing Sherlock?" Her voice went up an octave when he suddenly sifted close to her.

"You're cold." He stated simply and then by using his hands turned her over so that Molly's back was facing his front now. To her amazement he envelops his arms around her and pulls her flush against his chest. Then as a final move he crosses his feet with hers.

"Sharing body heat helps and also don't you think this is a more effective way to fall asleep too? Studies have shown that physical contact is helpful. As a matter of fact I think that from now on we should try this every time considering that we have ended up in this position every time we've slept in the same bed so why save us both the effort and do it now already. Goodnight."

Molly was quite surprised by this turn of events but wouldn't dream to protest since she was actually feeling very warm and comfortable now in his arms to ruin it. Of course there were other, way more pressing reasons too and the butterflies in her stomach were a good proof of that.

They both fell asleep almost simultaneously, not noticing that neither of them had needed to let Molly fell asleep first or Sherlock read out loud to her. The last thing both of them thought was how nice it felt to hold the other without any shame.

* * *

John Watson stared at his morning coffee cup in a trance. God knows he loves his daughter more than anything else on earth but right now after listening to the wailing and screaming for hours he wished he could be anywhere else right now. The reality around him seems to disappear as he focuses on watching the waves in the coffee caused by the sugar he'd just dropped in it.

The doctor is suddenly reminded of the real word when the not distant enough crying only intensifies and he can tell his wife is coming downstairs with their offspring.

"John! Your mum is calling me!" A distressed looking Mary barges to the kitchen managing to hold baby Fiona in her arms despite the desperate infant's wriggling.

"Why are you not answering then?"

"I have a hint what she wants but we can't have her hear the baby right now." She says smiling wickedly and drops her daughter to her husband's arms and rushes out of the back door to the small garden with her cell phone in her hand.

Mary closes the door firmly behind her and John sees her talking with the older Mrs. Watson through the living room door. As he tries to stop the baby from crying, not really putting all his efforts in as he knows it wouldn't work any way, he sees Mary turning towards the window and giving him thumbs up.

"What did she say?" He asks when she comes in grinning even wider than before.

"Like I thought she offered to come over to babysit for today. Had to ensure she didn't hear her darling granddaughter screaming her lungs out or else she wouldn't have been at all willing to come."

"Oh you brilliant woman!"

John jumps from his chair in effort to give a good snog to his wife but to his amazement she ignores him and flies straight to the coat hanger where she puts her red coat on and grabs her purse.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Oh darling surely you can manage to hand her over to your mum without me."

"But I thought we'd do something together since I have the day off?"

"Honey if you want to come with me to the spa you're more than welcome but I thought you'd rather like to use this day to be with your boyfriend instead." She winks at him and before he can reply anything back, she's already gone.

An hour later John has given Fiona to his slightly scared looking mother's care and he's sitting in the cab heading straight to Baker Street.

* * *

**A/N: How do you think John's going to react to that surprise!? :D**

**Ps. I'm on Tumblr By the same name (Silencebeyondthestars) so come and say hi!**


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